


Untitled

by dean



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Nogitsune
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-03-01 05:12:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2760926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dean/pseuds/dean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean are both dealing with feelings they haven't had before. Dean is not talking and Sam is anxious. It takes a failed case and a lot of booze for them to finally talk to each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first try on a wincest fanfic. Enjoy!

 

 _Sam pov_  
  
It was one of those cold nights again.  
Dean and Sam were parked at an open field, were they were the only humans in miles. They had just finished a case; they'd hunted down a stray werewolf that was attacking and killing too many people to go unnoticed. They were okay, except that Sam had been scratched by the wolf, which had left a huge bloody striped wound on his back. Also, his favorite plaid shirt had been torn, but Sam didn't have the luxury to care about that. His back was hurting really bad.  
  
He couldn't complain about that, though. Dean had spent almost an hour taking care of Sam's wound; cleaning it, stitching it up and putting a bandage around it.  
Sam had tried not to let it show when the alcohol stung and created a burning pain, or when his eyes got teary because of the feeling of a needle going through his skin.  
He would hate to complain over a stupid little thing like physical pain. Hell, he had been through worse.  
Besides, whenever Sam had flinched from the pain, Dean had stopped and waited until Sam was okay again. It meant a lot to Sam how caring Dean was when it came to these things; he wasn't like that in words, so Sam appreciated those moments when it showed how caring Dean really was.  
  
Sam was thinking about that while they were sitting in silence in the Impala.  
Besides the pain, he had also felt Dean's fingers carefully touching his skin, while he was silently taking care of Sam's scratch. Sam had likes Dean's presence so close. He had liked his soft touch.  
When they were younger, and sometimes slept in the same motel bed because a one-person room was cheaper, Sam remembered snuggling up against Dean's chest because it felt warm and safe. And Dean had always been okay with it. Sam assumed that the reason he liked Dean touching him, and taking care of him, was just because Dean was his older brother and he had always protected him. Sam was simply used to Dean being around him and making him feel safe and comfortable.  
So it was normal to like being taken care of, Sam thought. Noting weird about a close brotherly relationship, right?  
  
The reasons Dean had parked in the middle of nowhere at night was left unspoken, but Sam knew why Dean had done it.  
Firstly, because the sky was clear; there were no clouds so the midnight sky was sprinkled with stars. They would go outside, sit on the hood of the car and look at those stars, enjoying the moment of quietness, which was the opposite of a usual full-action hunting job.  
The second reason was that Dean probably had something on his mind. He hadn't been his normal smirky self lately. Sam had caught him a few times staring in the distance, obviously worrying about something. But when Sam had asked about it, Dean had said he was fine. Of course.  
So Sam let it rest. Dean would talk about it if he needed to, and otherwise not.  
  
Sam let out a small sigh. They had been sitting inside the car for fifteen minutes in a deathly quietness and Dean was frowning like he was figuring out a difficult math problem. He looked aside when he heard Sam's sigh.  
''Something wrong, Sammy?'' Dean asked in a flat voice.  
''No, nothing. I'm going outside.'' Sam answered, a little bit pissed at Dean for asking if _Sam_ was okay while he obviously had some issues himself.  
Sam went out of the car, zipping his coat closed. The warmth of inside the car left his body and soon Sam felt shivers running down his spine. He leaned against the car, staring at the sky. Normally Dean would come out too, grabbing two beers for them to celebrate the finished case. But not now.  
Sure, there were a lot of things that could bother Dean. I mean, their lives were pretty fucked up and they had been through a lot of evil crap the last years. Not even mentioning their friends dying. So, there were plenty of reasons for both of them to be upset.  
But usually, Dean would forget his trouble by drinking, one-night stands or focusing so much on working that he didn't have time to think. Now, he was spending hours sleeping – Sam was pretty sure he was taking sleeping medication – and when he was awake, he barely said anything. He wasn't really up for anything, he just did the job like they always did, but his head clearly wasn't with it.  
It made Sam worry a lot. But hey, when would he ever stop worrying about his brother.  
  
After another fifteen minutes or so, Dean came outside too. He sat down on the hood of the car, next to Sam. Sam just waited to see if Dean would say something. Honestly, Sam would be surprised if he did.  
''How is your wound?'' Dean asked after a short silence.  
''It's fine. Healing fast.'' Sam said. Thanks to you, he could have added. But he would never.  
''Good.'' Dean said, biting his lip, as it was silent again. Sam knew the signs; Dean was going to talk. He was struggling to do so, of course. Sam kept waiting.  
''Sam, I'm worried about you.'' Dean let out, looking at his brother.  
''You're worried about _me_?'' Sam snapped. ''Dean, have you seen yourself lately? What is going on!'' he said, his voice turning to a higher pitch.  
''I'm fine.'' Dean said shortly. ''But not you – you're hiding something. You tense up all the time when I'm around. You're keeping a secret, right?''  
  
Sam blushed, glad it was too dark for his brother to see. This was the least he had expected. Dean had actually noticed that Sam was starting to feel nervous around Dean in the last weeks? Sam didn't want to tell Dean that it was his presence that made him feel nervous. Sam hated himself for it as it was. He had spent so much time telling himself that his feelings were normal and that he liked Dean because he was his brother. But it wasn't normal that he actually got nervous, even clumsy when Dean was around now. It was stupid, and Sam just wanted it to go away. He knew inside what it was, but didn't want to think about it in his mind, let alone speak about it out loud. Thoughts about Dean. His sparkling green eyes, his pretty face, his freckles, the way he looked when he was angry, the way he looked when he smiled, the way he looked when he was sleeping. How Sam craved his presence all the time but couldn't be around him and act normally at the same time.  
Sam didn't want to think about it. Because if he would let the thoughts in, he would have a big problem that couldn't be just handled off like any monster. There was no way to kill a thought or a feeling.  
  
''I'm not keeping any secret.'' Sam said, trying to sound careless. But his voice was just on the edge of shaking, and of course Dean noticed that.  
''Yeah, try lying to someone else.''  
Sam sighed annoyed. ''I'm not lying. And you don't have the right to ask me anything, anyway. Dude, you've been practically a zombie the last month.''  
Dean shrugged, like Sam's words were not important and didn't make sense. Sam hated how Dean could so easily throw away whatever Sam said.  
With that, the conversation was over. Dean didn't try to get the truth out of Sam and Sam didn't try figuring out what was wrong with Dean. But he told himself he would find it out.  
  
It was around midnight when they arrived at a standard motel on the side of the road. Dean checked in, and soon Sam had chosen his bed, the one closest to the window, and was reading news on his laptop. Actually he was just waiting; Dean had left his bag on the other bed and had gone off to take a shower first. Sam put his laptop down when he heard the familiar sound of a weakly running shower. Motel showers sucked. Still Dean liked to take long showers, since it was so relaxing.  
In this case, that was rather handy. Sam went to Dean's bed and opened his bag. He threw all the clothes out on the bed, so he could easily search through the rest of the stuff. He found a few mini bottles of strong alcoholic drinks, dad's journal, necklaces and bracelets, some gun supplies, toothbrush, lighter, knives, shampoo... All pretty normal. Sam sighed and then checked the side pockets from the bag. They were all empty, except for one, where Sam found a half empty pack of cigarettes, another lighter and a little bottle of Valium. Sam's jaw dropped. The Valium, he had kinda expected that. But cigarettes? When did Dean even smoke? Did he sneak out at night during one of the little hours that Sam was sleeping? This was totally not like him. It gave Sam a really bad feeling. But what to do about it? Dean wasn't talking. He never was, but especially not now. And Sam didn't really feel like confronting him with what he had found.  
  
When Dean got out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist, Sam was back on his bed, pretending to be looking for a new case. He glanced at Dean, who picked a gray t shirt and boxers from his bag and put them on. Then he pulled the blankets over him, and lay down with his back to Sam, ignoring him. Nice, Sam thought. ''Good night to you too.'' Sam muttered to himself. He shut down the laptop and decided to try to sleep too. When his mind started wandering, he did a little trick to make him relax. He had taught that to himself some time ago.  
As he listened to Dean's steady breathing, and the little sleeping noises he made, he got more and more calm, his thoughts fading away, and his mind going blank. Maybe he wouldn't have a bad night after all.  
  
''Good morning, Sammy. You look adorable, hey, you sleepy puppy.''  
Sam rubbed his eyes, wondering why the light in the room was so bright, and who that person was that was talking to him.  
''You've been sleeping for half a day, man.''  
Sam opened his eyes. Dean was standing in the room, fully dressed, and a big smile on his face. Wait – did he just call him adorable? And puppy? But Dean had been in a horrible mood yesterday... and the weeks before that, too.  
''Puppy?'' Sam said in a sleepy voice. Dean gave a meaningful look at Sam's really messy, long hair and then his eyes. Sam sighed. Dean should stop with giving Sam these stupid nicknames.  
''So you got finally off your period?'' Sam said, with a half smile. Dean gave Sam a look containing power to kill.  
Sam laughed, and got up from his bed, checking the time. It was past eleven. Sam was surprised; he had finally had a good sleep. Apparently Dean had too, his mood had finally brightened up. Not that he would talk about anything regarding his feelings, though.  
  
 _Dean pov_  
  
It seemed liked Sam could barely keep the surprise out of his voice when he saw Dean.  
Dean had decided to ignore his feelings and act normal again. Hopefully he could keep it up for as long as possible.  
He stared at Sam, while he was laughing after Dean had looked at him angrily after the period joke. Sam's laugh was beautiful. Dean loved making Sam laugh, because Sam looked genuinely happy for a moment and his eyes lit up and... dimples. But seriously, fuck, Dean thought, he shouldn't be so attracted to his brother smiling. He despised himself for even thinking about it.  
''I found us a case, you bitch.'' he said, showing Sam the screen of his laptop. He tried not to stare at Sam's bare legs. He was wearing an ugly purple t shirt. It didn't make him any less pretty though.  
''Proud of you, jerk.'' Sam replied, and then he started reading the news article.  
It was about a probable serial killer in Seattle. The victims were all men, young adults. There had been seven of these murders in the last month, and the men were all found in their apartment, covered in blood, scratches and bites. It looked like an animal attack, but that couldn't be possible of course, because of the circumstances. What animal would go attacking just men in their houses? The article said the police were busy investigating, but they didn't have any leads.  
''This could be our kind of thing.'' Sam said.  
Dean nodded. ''That's what I thought. I say we hit the road.''  
  
Soon they were checked out of the motel. Dean drove, as he usually did. He was humming to one of his favorite songs that was playing. He ignored Sam, who occasionally glanced at him; that was probably of Dean's sudden mood change.  
''So, what do you think it is, the 'animal attacks'?'' Sam asked, his voice sounding all serious and investigating, like it always sounded when they were talking work-related things.  
''I don't know, could be anything. It seems a bit different than what I can think of, though... Ghosts don't bite people – as far as I know – and it doesn't seem like a werewolf or vampire either.''  
''Yeah, I agree.'' Sam said.  
Dean continued humming, and in the corner of his eye he saw Sam smiling.  
  
After some very long hours, they stopped at a gas station. Dean went inside to get some food – a burger and fries for himself, of course, he was hungry as hell – and Sam wanted a salad and a few bottles of water. Dean still didn't understand his brother's habit to eat healthily at all times. It didn't hurt to eat some yummy junk food once in a while, right?  
They drove to a big parking lot nearby and went outside to sit on the car, the food in between them. Dean thought about the last weeks of being anxious and worried. He constantly faired that Sam's hallucinations would come back again, and that he would break down. Then there would be only Dean to pick up the pieces, and he couldn't do that because he didn't know what he could do about it, for God's sake. Sam had always been a little bit of a freak, but seeing Lucifer, hearing him in his head? That kind of really scared Dean.  
Besides being worried about his brother, there was also this feeling that Dean didn't like to think about. A feeling of wanting to pull Sam into his bed and hug him until all his broken pieces would stick together. Cuddling so tight that there was no space between their bodies. Dean wanted to touch Sam's face, his hair, his body. Dean had had this feeling for a long time, but he had always suppressed it, because it wasn't fucking healthy. Now since Sam was so hurt and sick in the head, Dean had been worrying about him so much and thinking about him a lot. And somehow his affectionate feelings had grown stronger. So Dean had tried to take a distance, but it didn't really work. He had drowned his feelings by sleeping pills, more alcohol than usual (but out of Sam's sight) and cigarettes in the early morning. But now that he had noticed that didn't help – not even a tiny bit – he had tried to drop it and act normal. 

While something obviously was wrong with Sam too. At first, Dean hadn't noticed it, but when he really watched Sam, he saw that Sam didn't look him in the eyes anymore, and he was acting really tensed and nervous all the time. There had been one day where Sam and him were at another motel room, eating dinner, and Sam had his glass of water dropped off the table with his elbow. When he ducked to pick up the shattered glass, he had managed to shove away his plate too, which ended on the ground as well. If Dean had been his normal self at the time, he would have laughed at it, and made fun of Sam about it. But he hadn't done that because he didn't feel okay.  
  
''Hey Dean, can I ask you something?'' Sam said after he had finished his salad. He was playing with the cap of his water bottle.  
Dean didn't answer, and Sam continued.  
''What has happened that you're feeling better now? I mean, the last weeks you have been really quiet and not like yourself, you know... But not anymore, now. I mean, if you want to talk about it, you can do that. I'm here for you.''  
Sam's voice sounded nervous, probably because he was afraid Dean would get mad or just avoid the subject. Dean didn't say anything for a moment. He wanted to talk about it, but what was there to say?  
''You know, man, I've been just worried about you. With all this Lucifer-shit, your hallucinations, and we still don't know what to do about the Leviathans... How to kill those sons of bitches. I was just a little bit stressed. No need to worry about me.''  
Sam nodded.  
''We'll figure it out. And my hallucinations aren't really bad anymore, you know. Much less than they were at first. I have control over it.''  
Dean doubted that, but he didn't say anything. He just hoped that Sam was speaking the truth and that maybe the hallucinations would disappear completely.  
''Well, that's a good thing, then.'' Dean said, absent mindlessly putting a handful of fries in his mouth. A few of them fell out, and Sam laughed, looking down.  
''So... we're okay?'' he asked Dean.  
Dean nodded.  
''Sure, we're okay.''  
  
 _Sam pov_  
  
They were at a casual looking police station in Seattle; both in suit. Sam was wearing a gray suit with a dark brown – almost black – tie, and Dean was wearing a black suit with green details. Sam was staring at Dean's suit, wondering if Dean had chosen it on purpose – that color of green was the exact same color of his eyes. Then a tall, muscular man in a dark blue suit came up to them.  
''Gentlemen, how can I help you?'' he asked in a deep voice.  
They showed their fake federal ID cards, Dean saying: ''I am agent O'Brien, that is agent Musk.'', pointing at him and Sam.  
Sam nodded. ''We are here about the recent series of attacks. We want to ask some questions; about what you have found out about it. We need some more info on the case. It's for our investigation.''  
The man frowned and took the ID cards, checking them for a few seconds, to see if they were legit. Sam and Dean glanced at each other. They almost never had been caught.  
Then the man nodded too.  
''That's alright. Come along.''  
Sam and Dean followed him to a small room as they sat down on uncomfortable chairs. Sam took control, as he usually did, and started asking questions.  
''When did these attacks start?''  
The man still had a frown on his face.  
''Don't you two have your own info on this case, since you are federal _agents_?'' The suspicion in his voice was obvious, and he kinda looked like an angry dog that was about to bite their heads off. Dean and Sam looked at each other, as tension filled the room. Sam gave Dean an almost unnoticeable nod, saying 'you take care of this'.  
Dean made an 'ahem' sound, and then said: ''Sir, we would really appreciate your cooperation.'' He let a silence fall, and then continued: ''You see, we could easily get you replaced by someone who is willing to help us. It just takes a call. So if you want to keep your job...''  
The man just stared at them. Sam nervously hoped the bluffing would work. It usually did, but this man didn't seem like he was easily impressed.  
Thank God, he was.  
''Okay. What do you want to know?'' he said, sounding a lot more kind. Sam suppressed a grin, and continued his questioning.  
  
When they got back to their motel room, Sam and Dean had figured out a lot more about the killings, but still hadn't gotten any closer to an idea who the killer might be. There were some witnesses, though, and Dean was going to visit them, so Sam could do more research, and maybe go to the library to get some mythology books. When Sam had suggested that Dean could go to the witnesses right after they had left the police station, Dean had insisted on getting some food and relax first, so here they were; Dean eating a bacon-cheese pizza and Sam a pizza Hawaii.  
The TV was on, and Sam and Dean were both not looking at the program, some stupid reality show. Sam was thinking about the case; he just couldn't think of any monster that would fit the pattern. Hopefully he could find anything on the internet, or maybe there was something in dad's journal.  
''Hey, could you pass me dad's journal?'' he asked. Dean looked up, and then grabbed the journal and threw in on Sam's bed.  
''Thanks.''  
Sam stared skipping through the pages. He forgot about his pizza when he found something interesting. Just when he wanted to tell Dean, he heard him cursing.  
''Fucking pizza!''  
Sam looked over; a piece of pizza had fallen on Dean, and now it was all over his pretty suit, and his neck. Tomato sauce dripped on the bed.  
Sam laughed at it.  
''You know you can't blame the pizza for that.'' he said amused.  
''Well, I still do.'' Dean said, walking towards the bathroom. ''I'm gonna clean myself up.''  
Sam looked back to his journal, still laughing. After he had reread the part where he thought their monster was mentioned, he wasn't so sure anymore. It was about a creature that lived in people's houses and killed them for food, and it was known to eat only men. But if that monster was their killer, then the bodies wouldn't just have bites and scratches, they would be completely destroyed. With limbs missing and such.  
Sam heard water splashing from the bathroom. He was happy that Dean was better again, but still wondering what had been bugging his brother so much. He had said he had been worried. But Sam didn't really believe it. It must have been something worse than that. Otherwise Dean wouldn't have been acting like he had been. The leviathans weren't even really something to worry about; they had been off the map lately. That's why they had decided to go on a normal job in the first place. And Dean couldn't been too worried about Sam, right? Sam hadn't had hallucinations anymore. Just the occasional voices. Alright – that was not okay, but it was better  hearing Lucifer than seeing him.  
''You're so right, Sam. Ah, you don't need to see me to hear me talking. We haven't talked in a long time, hey! I miss you, buddy.''  
Lucifer.  
The damn devil.  
He was talking to him again. In his head, even though the voice sounded loud and clear like he was standing right in front of Sam. Sam gritted his teeth. _Ignore it_ , he told himself. _Don't listen_. Sam started reading the journal again, trying to focus on the text. That was pretty hard.  
''So, friend, how you doing? Must be great, on a job with your dear brother, right? You two are having so much cute moments, man, I understand why people think you two are lovers instead of brothers.''  
Sam almost bit his tongue. _Get out of my head_.   
''I'm not going anywhere, I like it way too much here!''  
Sam put the journal aside, breathing in deeply. So stupid that the hand thing didn't work anymore. Maybe he should try something else. Sam got his knife from the drawer next to his bed, and then took his shirt off. If pain in his hand worked, than any other pain should work too, right? The wound on his back didn't hurt anymore...  
The devil laughed.  
Sam put the knife on his arm. Then he made a cut, which didn't hurt enough, so he cut deeper. Soon there was blood dripping off his arm on the ground. The devil laughed even harder.  
''You can just kill yourself already...''  
At that sentence, Sam cut even deeper, and then it got quiet in his head. The pain was horrible, though. Sam tried not to cry or scream, and damn, he should clean this mess up before Dean would come back. He definitely didn't want to make him more worried – 

The bathroom door unlocked. Too late.  
  
''What the fuck – Sam? What are you doing?'' Dean said, staring at Sam in disbelief. He was still wearing his suit pants but not a shirt, and Sam saw Dean's chest moving up and down as he was breathing. He got to Sam and lay his hand on his arm. ''Why did you do that? Tell me!'' Dean demanded. Sam looked down, not wanting to say a word about it. But he didn't have much choice.  
''It was, eh, you-know-who. I needed to do something to get him out.''  
A silence fell. Then Dean said in a low voice: ''But that's not the right way. You shouldn't hurt yourself, Sammy, you know he's not real. Don't let him get to you!''  
''Yeah, that's easy for you to say! You don't hear him talking, at all times! He is everywhere – even when I don't see or hear him, he's still around. You know last case? When we were talking to the werewolf's girlfriend? Lucifer sat down next to her, pulling her hair out of her skull, and I had to sit there and act normal. I know it isn't real, Dean. But it does feel very real. You know, it's sometimes even more real than –'' _You_ , he wanted to say.  
Sam stopped the sentence. Better not tell Dean about that. He shouldn't be making him any more worried. But Dean already was, Sam saw, from the way he looked at him.  
Dean stayed silent and walked away to get a washcloth to clean up Sam's wound. After that he swiped the blood on the floor away, and then he splashed water over his own bed to get the tomato sauce away. Sam was watching him, pushing the bloody washcloth against his arm, hoping it'd stop bleeding soon.  
  
After everything was cleaned up, Dean sat on Sam's bed, next to him, so close that their shoulders were touching.  
''Is he still there?'' Dean asked. Sam nodded. He saw the devil now, sitting next to Dean, and smiling happily as if there was a party going on.  
Dean took a breath, thinking of something to make him the damn devil get out of his brother's head. ''Sam, do you think it would help if I would, eh, distract you?''  
Sam looked up. ''What do you mean?''  
Dean didn't answer. He slowly moved his hand to Sam's face, and when he touched it, Sam shivered.  
''Your hands are freaking cold.'' Sam said, half smiling, breaking the tensed moment. That wasn't really true – okay, maybe a little, because Sam's hands were really warm, so everything else felt cold against his skin – but Sam needed a good reason to be shivering from a simple touch, besides saying the truth; _I've always wanted you to touch my face and now it's really happening, what the freaking hell._  
They laughed, and Dean pulled his hand away. Sam ignored Lucifer, who raised his eyebrows at them and said ''I told you, Sam, your brother has a huge crush on you. And you like him too, right?''  
Sam looked away from the devil, and stared into Dean's eyes instead. Dean had a dazed expression on his face, like he wasn't really aware of what was happening. Their faces were so close that their noses almost touched. Sam could count the freckles on his brother's face.  
And suddenly, as the figure of the devil next to Dean faded away, the realization hit Sam – _this_ was real. Not Lucifer. He wasn't in the cage anymore. He was here, with his brother, closer to him than he had ever hoped for.  
Then Dean pulled back, and broke the moment, his expression turning back to his usual cool face, hiding all his emotions.  
''So, now you know it, then? He's gone, right?'' Dean asked. Sam didn't even question how Dean knew that, it was probably obvious to read from Sam's face. He was filled with relief, and another emotion he didn't want to think about. Just a few seconds ago the thought of kissing his brother had flashed through his mind; he should better take some distance now or he would do things he would regret.  
''Yeah, he's gone.''  
Dean nodded. He seemed a little bit uncomfortable.  
''Well, if you're good, then I'm gonna go interview the girlfriend of the latest poor murdered man. Don't stay up and wait for me.''  
That last sentence meant practically the same as 'I'm gonna go to a bar after the interview, get very drunk and hit on some hot chicks.'  
When he was at the door, Dean added ''Call me if you need anything.''  
Sam got a little bit warm inside, because it was one of those little things Dean did again, it meant 'I'll look out for you.' Even though it was often really annoying that Dean wanted to protect Sam at all times, it was really adorable sometimes, too.  
  
 _Dean pov_  
  
Dean was glad he had gotten away from Sam, before it was too late. His mind was racing and he was very confused with all this new thoughts and feelings about Sam. Hopefully he could forget what just had happened by drinking a lot of beer and spend the night with some cute girl. That was normal, and natural for him. Girls. Always predictable. He knew exactly how to get them to like him, what things to say and what things not to say. He knew how to smile at them in a cute way, and he knew how to smile at them in a way that said 'take me with you, anywhere, _now_ '.  
So after Dean had interviewed his witness, who really had nothing useful to say – well, when did it ever go easy for them – he drove to one of the bars in town, where it looked crowded enough for some good distraction. Dean went in, took his jacket of and ordered his first drink – forget about beer, he needed something stronger.  
While downing his shot, he tried hard not to think about how close he had just been to kissing his little brother. Fucking _kissing_ him, and that was when he didn't think about all the other things he wanted to do... He had been so close to see every detail on Sam's face, Sam's face that he knew so well, his lovely scent that he knew and always smelled like home and safety... The smell of musk and books and Sam's favorite shampoo.  
When did he even start having these feelings? _They were always there,_ a voice in his head said. They just came very close to the surface now, because he couldn't keep them in forever. But no matter what, he _had_ to keep them in. Because what was the alternative?  
''Hey, handsome.''  
A young girl with short brown hair and a cute smile came to sit next to him. Dean looked at her; her big blue eyes, long eyelashes, natural looking face and short dress that still covered more of her body than the rest of the girls here.  
So, she wasn't blond and fake like the other girls, but she still was obviously flirting with him. Dean didn't really care – any girl could do now.  
''Hi there. What's your name?'' Dean said with a smile.  
The girl put a lock of hair behind her ear. ''I'm Savannah.'' She said. She had a slight Australian accent  
''That's a beautiful name.'' Dean said, wondering if she was too young. But then again; he didn't really care, as long as she was okay with it.  
''Thank you!'' Savannah said. ''So, I was wondering, you were sitting here with this look on your face, like, well... Did you just have a breakup or something?''  
 _Fucking great_ , Dean thought.  
''No, it's nothing, really. I just had kind of a bad day, at work.''  
Savannah nodded. ''Then I guess you need another drink, huh?'' She ordered another shot for Dean. Dean just smiled at her, and checked his phone; he had gotten a text from Sam, saying _don't be back too late, I don't need you being a sleep deprived bitch tomorrow_. Dean smiled slightly and texted back _sure honey_. Then he looked up and took the shot Savannah had paid for him. It had kind of a bitter aftertaste.   
Savannah looked Dean deeply in his eyes, her lips quirked in a confident smile, as if she had just conquered the world. ''So, why don't you tell me something about yourself?'' She asked, her voice soft as honey and she really seemed genuinely interested, so Dean just started talking. He wasn't telling the girl anything about his real life, of course. But he still had some things he could tell; for example all the weird places where Sam and he had been, because they had been everywhere. And when they weren't hunting, they had a lot of fun, whenever they decided to forget about all the not normal things about their lives. Forget about all the monsters. Freaking annoying monsters, Dean thought.  
Savannah just kept listening and Dean started to feel a little bit sleepy. Must be the booze. But then his sight went a bit different – everything got darker and darker, and it was really weird; Dean knew the lights in the bar had been bright, just an hour ago, but now everything looked faded, as if a filter of darkness had gone over it. Dean didn't even remember that Savannah gave him another two shots he drank. They tasted just as bitter as the first one.  
Something was definitely not alright, but Dean couldn't think clearly, and the last thing he remembered was his vision completely blacking out, and Savannah preventing him from falling of his chair. She caught him in her arms and carried her away, and before Dean could struggle against it, he fell asleep.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it, please review!!! It would mean a lot.


End file.
